


five, four, three, two.

by wheezyboys



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheezyboys/pseuds/wheezyboys
Summary: uhhhh, these boys r dumb





	five, four, three, two.

**Author's Note:**

> for migz, even tho ur probably in ur bathtub rn

On December 31st, at around quarter to twelve, two boys were waiting for midnight. 

Well, not boys. Adults.

They were adults.

Yes, they were adults.

Usually adult parties had more spirits and finger foods than they did beer pong and bongs, but they were actually legal and that was all that mattered. 

Beckett—no, Bucket—was on one side of the room, shooting ping pong balls into cups half filled across the table. 

Maverick was on the other side of the room, talking to a girl who had introduced herself as Savannah. They both nursed red solo cups in their hands, but Maverick’s was filled with water, and Savannah’s was filled with something sickly sweet and bright pink. 

She was nice despite the hiccuping and she seemed genuinely interested in Maverick’s schooling, as he was in her veterinary stories, especially the one about the baby cows. 

She seemed to really like the story too, until she started to cry about how cute the cows were, and then she cried harder about how she’ll never see the cows again. 

Maverick really tried to comfort her, but in the end her boyfriend who had been playing beer pong against Bucket had made his way over, and tucked her under his arm and brought her to the kitchen to grab her own cup of water. 

There was a silent hope that her hangover wouldn’t be too bad tomorrow. 

He didn’t have much time to think on it before he had his own boy wrapping himself around him. 

“Dude, you smell like beer,” Maverick giggled out. 

Bucket only shrugged, “might’ve spilled a little.”

Taking another glance at him, he noticed the massive wet spot down his chest. 

“Just a little?” He questioned, before taking Beckett’s hand, quickly intertwining their fingers to ensure he wouldn’t lose the other, then heading towards the stairs. “We’re just going to go get you a new shirt, okay?”

He heard a hum behind him, so he kept tugging the boy up the stairs. 

A couple doors were checked, then Maverick pulled him into a bedroom, with a wardrobe of clothes. 

Maverick pushed him on the bed and set to work, picking through the drawers until he found something that would probably fit him. 

“Okay,” he said, “I know polos are douchey, but it was really the only option, unless you’re thinking a woman’s blouse.”

When he turned back, Bucket had collapsed back on the bed, and he looked about half asleep. 

“Bucket,” he said, tugging the boy up by his arm, “hey, come on. I’m not sleeping in the same bed as a dude who reeks.”

Thankfully, Bucket obeyed, and sat up straight enough for Maverick to stand between his legs and pull the wet shirt off. 

While Maverick unfolded the other shirt and tried to think of how he was going to get this shirt on the boy with noodle arms, Bucket made a noise. 

“Hmm?” He asked.

“Mav… Mavvy,” he said, “we’re going to miss the new year.”

Maverick let out a breathy laugh, “well, buddy, I think we’re going to be living in it, actually.”

“Not that, psh, not that,” Bucket said, squinting up to look at Maverick. 

“Well, what do you mean then?” He asked, hands paused, gripping the fabric.

“The countdown,” he said, “y’know the kisses.”

Maverick let out another bark of laughter, and pushed the hair off Bucket’s forehead. “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of kisses in the new year,” he said.

Bucket leaned into the touch and mumbled something.

“What was that?” 

Bucket cleared his throat, and looked back up to Maverick, his cheek now cradled in Maverick’s always cold hands, “none from the person I want to kiss.”

Maverick was about to question him, when he heard the countdown through the floor beneath them. 

“Hey, kneel down, wouldja?” Bucket asked. 

He thought nothing of it, so Maverick got on his knees between Bucket’s legs, and honestly, they’d been in more compromising positions, so he really thought nothing of it. 

They were loud beneath them, but Maverick was looking up at Bucket, elbows resting on the boy’s thighs. 

Five. 

Bucket was staring back, and Maverick snuck a glance down to Bucket’s bare chest. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, Bucket was a casual nudist. 

Four. 

Maverick made eye contact again, and was entranced. Whatever fogginess was in Bucket’s eyes minutes ago was gone. Bucket looked clear eyed and sure. 

Three. 

Bucket reached forward and intertwined their hands again. He had to nudge the sleeves of Maverick’s sweater back down, but the warmth of Bucket’s hands were enough, so Maverick didn’t complain. 

Two. 

Bucket snuck the quickest glance at Maverick’s lips, and licked his own. Subconsciously, Maverick licked his own.

One. 

Bucket surged forward, in almost a bout of courage. 

Lips touched, teeth clacked, and the cheering only got louder in the floor beneath them, but it was still the kind of thing that played as the final scene of a holiday rom-com. 

Before anything could deepen, Maverick pulled back and pushed his face into Bucket’s chest, grip on his hands tightening. 

“What’s the opposite of a jinx?” He asked, chest rumbling, Maverick laughing quietly at how it made his face feel. 

“Why does it matter?” Maverick asked, peeling himself away. 

He sat back on his heels, and looked up at Bucket, who was staring back down at him, the legendary smirk riding his lips. 

He just shrugged and leaned forward again, capturing Maverick in a chaste kiss, and then smiling wide. 

“I guess it doesn’t now. Happy New Year, Mav.”

Maverick hummed and smiled, “yeah, Happy New Year, Bucket.”


End file.
